OPINION: Pillow talk could never be so sweet

THINGS in our bedroom have started with some crazy happenings this year. I have banned the mobile phone.

Yes, I know. Shock horror! I have slept with my iPhone tucked lovingly next to my head far longer than I have curled up with my dreamy hubby.

Before I met my husband my phone was the conduit for some very bad first dates with at least half the dodgy guys on the Sunshine Coast.

My phone has rescued me when I have locked my keys in my car. My phone has been a torchlight to avoid stepping on toads in the dark and a friend when I need to check in with the world.

My phone and I have spent some wild nights together buying bad and good fashion. We have selfied, Googled, liked, poked, transferred and shared some very special moments.

We have spent entire Sunday afternoons Facebooking and Instagramming our way around the world, drooling at random strangers' seemingly perfect lives with their pictures of gleaming white teeth and matching white Gucci skinny jeans and stilettos.

On top of all that, my phone pretty much single-handedly got me through the wee hours of feeding three children. Well, my phone and the thought of drinking vodka shots again one day.

But you see, that is the problem. I was literally spending more time with my phone than I was with my husband. It was almost as if I was having an affair with the phone. It was the last thing I saw at night and the first thing I reached for in the morning to check what I had missed while sleeping.

I love knowing I can check in with Hugh Jackman and see a photo of what Wolverine is eating for breakfast and four seconds later can look at a picture of a dog with a massive underbite and wearing a bikini. Yes, this Instagram account does exist!

And, yes, this is the pathetic confessions of an active voyeur. An overactive voyeur who needs to join iPhone Anonymous. So back to the phone and my marriage.

This little threesome became such an issue that I would hide the phone when my husband came into the bedroom for fear he would bust me checking out my addictive Instagram feed. I was also going well over my capped money phone plan each month. A lecture inevitably followed that left me feeling like a naughty teenager. Which is exactly how I was behaving by staying up too late just flittering away my time on Facebook.

Yep, I know how to party!

So the mobile phone has been locked out of the bedroom. If you haven't heard from me on Facebook or Instagram, don't despair: I am just waiting for the right moment to have a sneaky cheat on my hubby. I wonder if Hugh Jackman misses me as much as I miss him.